


we got lost in the summer heat

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Series: we could be together baby [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exes, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only supposed to be a summer fling. He and his sister were new in town, and an easy addition to their group, but they were going into senior year - it would be easier to break it off when they returned to the reality of college applications and big dreams. But since she was Clarke and he was Bellamy, things weren't that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. that night, i still remember

School hallways had pretty much always been the bane of Clarke Griffin’s existence. She hated the crush of students — the boys either gross and sweaty or wearing some disgusting semblance of cologne; the girls prancing around in clouds of perfume that assaulted her sinuses — and she abhorred the incessant chatter surrounding her, making it damn near impossible to hear herself think, let alone carry on a conversation with one of the few friends she had left.

“Hey,” said a masculine voice next to her ear, and she jumped. For a minute she thought it was him — stupid, really, since she’d known _this_ voice forever and she’d only met _him_ last summer.

“Hey, Wells.”

Clarke’s oldest friend frowned at the lackluster tone of her voice. “Everything alright?”

“It was supposed to be a one-summer-only thing,” she said quietly, though she couldn’t quite keep her eyes from scanning the halls. He was a student here, too, after all; it was hardly inconceivable that they’d cross paths at some point. She wanted to be prepared when they did, since he had always been the one to catch her off guard.

 _Stop thinking about him,_ she ordered herself, when remembrances of those encounters led to the memory of the smug smirk that adorned his face whenever he surprised her, and the first time she’d gotten up the courage to kiss it off his stupidly handsome face, and the freckles she used to love to trace into constellations — _Enough,_ Clarke repeated to herself. _It’s over and done with._ You’re _done, the two of you._

Wells was still watching her concernedly, so she plastered on a pleasant smile. “It’s nothing, really. I’m fine. I’m over him.”

“I hope so,” Wells murmured, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “Because here he comes.”

It was pathetic how quickly Clarke’s head jerked up, her gaze snapping in the direction her best friend indicated, her whole body going on alert. Wells did like to mess with her, she knew, but even he knew better than to joke around about this, about _him_.

And oh, there he was. Broad-shouldered and curly-haired and freckled and gorgeous, sauntering down the hallways with his guys, smirking like he owned the school, even though he was a new student and should, by all logical reasoning, have been cast out.

But that was just his way — Bellamy Blake had a way of effortlessly ingratiating himself into any sort of situation and absolutely owning the scene. It was, after all, exactly how he’d become a part of their group.

His gaze passed over her, then slid back as his eyes narrowed, his face clearly struggling to maintain its impassivity. He seemed to almost open his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and turned away, leaving without a word.

Clarke exhaled shakily, resting her forehead against the cool metal of her locker door. _It’s better this way,_ she reminded herself, but it was hard to believe it when she thought about the entirety of senior year going this way.

* * *

 The boys around him were roughhousing, shoving each other into lockers and joking around like fairly typical teenage douchebags. Normally Bellamy would’ve joined them, been at the center of the action even, but today his thoughts were occupied.

He hadn’t seen her since the disastrous end of the summer, and every fiber of his body was on high alert as they made their way down the hall. In a school this small, it was more than likely that they’d run into each other before the day was out, and he’d rather not have that be literally. Not like the first time they’d met — _Okay, that’s enough, Blake._ He winced at the bittersweet memory — after the initial clash, they’d gotten along quite well, even turned it into an inside joke between the two of them. Then everything had changed, and he really wasn’t sure what he would do if — when — he saw her again.

Speak of the devil.

The first thing he saw was a glimpse of bright hair, and he couldn’t help the way he immediately looked over to check if it was her. It had been weeks, after all, and right now he couldn’t think beyond wondering how she was holding up. (“You’re an absolute mess, big brother,” Octavia had said just the other day. “You need to get over her; and get over yourself too, while you’re at it.” He’d thrown a pillow at her in retaliation, but even then he’d known she had the right of it.)

Yup, that was her, the current bane of his existence. She was talking to Wells, just like she had been when he’d first met her, and it was as if nothing had changed since the start of summer. As if he’d never existed in her picture-perfect, white-picket-fence world.

Before Clarke Griffin, he hadn’t thought that he even had a heart to break. He cared about his sister and his mother, and that was that. Everyone else could go screw themselves. Then _she_ stomped and argued her way past his walls, and he’d never been the same since.

“Really?” Murphy asked, noticing how Bellamy stopped in the middle of the walkway. “Dude, that’s _Clarke Griffin._ Know-it-all, mom and dad are both profs at the college, scary as hell. She will _eat you alive_.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy murmured. “I know.”

* * *

 It was never intended to be more than a summer fling. They were both going to be high school seniors, though they were two years apart — she’d skipped third grade; he’d repeated fifth — so between upcoming college applications and the desire to prove themselves to the world, neither had time for any serious emotional entanglements. So when things between them had escalated, they’d initially agreed: no real feelings; what happens in summer, stays in summer.

Obviously, that hadn’t worked out so well.

Instead of ending with the smooth neutrality of a predetermined agreement, they went out — as all their cynical friends had predicted — with a bang.  No-holds-barred fighting, accusations tossed back and forth, plenty of below-the-belt shots on both sides. Everything she’d ever revealed flung right back in her face; everything he’d ever promised dredged up to be mocked and derided.

Was it any wonder they could hardly stand to be around each other anymore?

* * *

 “Back-to-school party at your place later?” Raven suggested at lunch, glancing over wistfully to the table where Bellamy and his guys were sitting, studiously ignoring their existence. Among them was Wick, though he was having less success keeping his eyes off them. Or, well, off Raven. “It won’t be the same without them, but we’ll make do. Who’ve we got left, anyway?”

“Us,” Clarke said morosely, then glanced around their table to take a quick headcount. “Wells. Finn, I guess. Monty and Jasper. Maya.”

“So, seven? That’s enough for a halfway decent gathering. Won’t be as wild without the Blakes, but I’m guessing _wild_ isn’t exactly what you’re looking for right now.”

Clarke cast her own glance over to the other table and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Octavia had been shooting him furtive sidelong glances ever since they left the school parking lot, and Bellamy had finally had enough. “What, O?”

She blinked. “Can I turn on the radio?”

He shrugged, though he was secretly pleased that she’d actually remembered his _my car, my music_ rule for once. “Go for it.”

When a recognizable guitar opening came on, he immediately regretted the words. Immediately he reached over to change the station, but she caught his wrist. “Bell, stop being weird. You can’t just avoid everything forever.”

“Watch me,” he grumbled, but returned his hand to the steering wheel and refocused on the road, gritting his teeth as the painfully familiar lyrics began to play.

_That night, I still remember…_

* * *

 “You know, it’s really not such a bad idea.”

“Oh, shut up, Wick. Raven, can’t you come control your boyfriend?”

“He’s not —”

“Sure he’s not. I mean, yeah, you’re not official, blah blah blah, but we can all tell that both of you are totally head over heels for each other.”

“Yeah, well, so were you and —” Raven froze, clapping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

They all froze, in fact. They’d been doing _so good_ , ignoring the Blakes-shaped hole in the room — Bellamy and Octavia were the life and soul of the party, as they’d discovered that summer, and it was far too early on to try and replace them — but it was really inevitable that this moment would come. And now it was here.

“Shit, Clarke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean —”

Clarke lifted a hand to cut off the stream of apologies — a gesture that she’d picked up from a certain somebody over the summer, not that any of them would point it out now. “No, it’s okay, I know.” She scuffed the toe of her Converse against the grass and sighed. “Sorry I’ve been such a downer lately. It’s not like I’m the only person in the world who’s ever been through a breakup.”

“It’s not your fault,” Monty insisted, bounding over to hug her tightly. She relaxed into the familiar comfort of his embrace, trying not to think about somebody else who also gave great hugs. “We’re all still trying to figure out what happened.” Clarke remembered suddenly about Miller, who was sticking close to Bellamy’s side these days, and felt a stab of guilt.

This was on them, her and Bellamy. (And yes, it most definitely hurt to even think his name. That was exactly why she repeated it in her head, over and over and over — she deserved the pain, the agony of remembering how stupid, how careless, how thoughtless she’d been. They’d both been.) Everyone had had an amazing summer, a made-for-the-movies idyll that had brought them all closer together.

Until _they’d_ happened, and blown everything they’d built to smithereens.

Clarke shook her head, trying to clear it. ( _I can still hear you thinking, princess._ Oh traitorous memory.) “I think I’m gonna head up to bed. You guys are welcome to stay over; both my parents are out of town.”

* * *

 Even the sound of soft footfalls and the added weight to the sofa couldn’t pull Bellamy’s eyes from his game. He did, however, gesture to the controller he’d purposefully left on the coffee table in hopes of this very occurrence. “Wanna play?” She picked it up, as he’d known she would. This was _their thing_ , late-night video game sessions that left them both tired but happy.

Bellamy had long since gotten used to the weird looks he got when people found out he’d repeated a grade — the judgmental once-overs, the attempt to reconcile this rather clever nerd with their mental picture of the kind of kid who didn’t pass elementary school on the first try. What most of them didn’t realize was that it had been deliberate.

Six years was a major age gap, especially when you were little. _Your sister, your responsibility,_ their mother had constantly reminded him, and it had pretty much become his main philosophy in life. So when the time came for timid, painfully-shy Octavia to start thinking about kindergarten, he’d made sure he’d still be in the same school so he could be there for her.

He’d do anything for her. It just made sense.

“You’re still a wreck, Bell. You know you can’t hide anything from me; I’ve always been able to tell when something’s wrong with you.”

“Yeah? Your form’s off, too.” As if to punctuate his point, he snapped his wrist and sent the ball spiraling past her on-screen avatar.

Grinning genuinely for the first time in a while, he turned to her and found her scowling. “You cheater.”

He shrugged. “Not my fault you can’t stay focused on a simple game.”

“Oh, you are going to _eat_ those words.”

“Make me.”

“I plan to.”

As they launched into another round, Octavia briefly rested her head against his shoulder, and Bellamy gave silent thanks for understanding siblings who didn’t feel the need to drag everything out into the open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my first multichap fic for this fandom! I've had this planned and set to write for a while now, and I figured I should hop to it since my summer's half over already. Hopefully it doesn't suck too bad, I'm a bit out of practice.


	2. it was warm, in the middle of summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy's prickly first encounter, and their more amiable second as well.

_Three months earlier_

June had finally come, and with it finals — then, at long last, summer vacation.

“Goodbye hell year, hello freedom!” Jasper crowed as the gang piled into Raven’s shitty minivan, the one she and Wick had spent the past year fixing up for this very purpose — to celebrate their newfound leisure time after nine months of APs and SATs and other stress-inducing sets of letters. “What’s first? The world’s our oyster!”

“I begin to see why you got that B in English,” Monty commented, “if your essays contained as many clichés as your everyday speech does.”

“Hey boys, let’s play nice.” Clarke mock-glared at them. “I’m well-acquainted with the male ego and its need to posture, but it’s way too early in the day — hell, it’s too early in the _summer_ to be bickering already.”

“Yes, Mom,” they chanted.

“Let’s just go, before one of you does or says something that forces me to put you in time-out.” She shook her head, but she was grinning just as widely as they were.

* * *

 

Since they all had a major soft spot for tradition and sentiment and accumulating as many memories as possible in all three of the worthy places in this nowhere “city” they were unfortunate enough to call home — as Wells so eloquently put it once, in a fit of educated frustration after he’d read some enlightening novel or other — their first stop was the indoor pool where most of them had met for the first time while on their welcome-to-middle-school field trip. (Though Arcadia was kind of a middle-of-nowhere place, a city in nothing but official name, it had several elementary schools that all channeled their students into the one middle school. Thus, the sixth-grade kickoff was the first chance some of them had to get to know the others.)

“Hey, there they are!” Dante Wallace, the elderly manager/supervisor, grinned as they came in. He’d been there that first day, and observed firsthand the chaos that ensued as the then-sixth graders explored their new partnership in crime. Surprisingly enough, Dante was still happy enough to have them in his pool. “What’s on the agenda this year? Explosions? Surely Raven and the dynamic duo have it figured out by now.”

“I wish,” Jasper sighed, earning himself a fond smile.

“Well, don’t get yourselves in too much trouble. Cage is head lifeguard on duty today,” Dante warned. “I love my son, but you all know how he is.”

“Do we ever.” Monty scowled.

“We can play nice for an afternoon,” Clarke promised with her special adult-enchanting smile. Of course Dante saw right through her, having known her and her parents for years, but he just winked and waved as he walked off.

As they settled into the nook they had long since claimed as theirs — with a Jaha and a Griffin among their number, they were safe from any spot-stealers or property thieves — Raven’s gaze caught on an unfamiliar face. 

“New guy alert,” she said, voice cautious. “It’s actually happening, guys.”

Clarke glanced over, as did Harper and Monroe, who had joined them. “Not bad. Solid nine, nine-point-five even.”

“Definitely,” Harper agreed.

Monty shrugged. “I’ve seen hotter,” he said, and immediately blushed.

“Oh, yeah?” Clarke grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to mean —"

“Shut up, shut up, he’s _right there!_ ”

At her friend’s urgent head jerk, Clarke glanced over again at Hot New Guy and found that he was indeed talking to Nathan Miller, Monty’s longtime crush. They seemed to be getting along great — which, well, it wasn’t that she thought of Miller as a dog or anything, but his was a pretty fine-tuned sense of people’s character. Hot New Guy must’ve been alright, since Miller’s body language looked relaxed.

“We should say hi at some point,” Clarke mused. “Instead of just staring at him like creepers.”

“Or we could just stare at him like creepers,” Raven countered, half-smirking. “He’s looked over here like six times already; it’s probably just a matter of time anyway.”

* * *

 

The inevitable encounter did not take place under ideal conditions.

Clarke had just climbed out of the water and realized she was on the opposite side of the pool from the towel she’d left on her chair. “Damn it,” she muttered as she hurried through the air that felt like an ice blanket against her dripping body, head bent against the slight wind.

That was how she ran into Bellamy Blake for the first time. Literally.

“Sorry,” she muttered, then bit her bottom lip and tried not to flush as she realized that she’d just collided with Hot New Guy.

He looked faintly annoyed, as though the water that had transferred to his shirt was a major inconvenience but the cause of it wasn’t worth his attention. “Really? Is it that hard to watch where you’re going, princess?”

Clarke scowled right back at him, embarrassment forgotten. “Princess?”

“Suits you. You and your friends, or should I say your royal court?” He waved a dismissive hand at the others waiting for her in the corner.

“What is your problem?”

He didn’t even dignify the question with an acknowledgment, let alone a response. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Clarke huffed. No level of hotness was worth putting up with that personality.

* * *

 

Monty looked up from the Go Fish game as she returned to their group. “Clarke, this is Octavia.”

“Hi, Octavia.” She reached out to shake hands with the newest addition to their group, a confidently pretty girl who looked a few years younger than them. “You’re new to Arcadia, right?”

“Yeah, me and my brother and my mom. Bell’s your age; he’s gonna be a senior.”

“You have a brother?” Clarke shot her a wistful look. “I’ve always wanted a brother.”

“I’m not enough brother for you? I’m so hurt, Griffin.” Wells clapped a hand to his heart.

“Shut up, Jaha, you drama queen.” Clarke didn’t even spare him a glance before turning back to Octavia. “As you can probably tell, he isn’t my brother. He just likes to pretend he is. When I’m in a better mood, I usually do too.”

Octavia nodded, looking slightly bemused. “And here Bellamy was worried I wouldn’t make any new friends.” As she looked around, she caught someone’s eye and waved, grinning.

Raven looked up too, and suddenly all the pieces fell into place. (Why it took so long, she’d never know — wasn’t she supposed to be some kind of mechanical genius?) “Oh — Hot New Guy is your brother.”

“ _Bellamy_ ,” Octavia repeated. “Please don’t call him ‘Hot New Guy,’ his ego’s big enough as it is, and I have to live with him for another year. Optimistically.”

He’d reached them at this point, that goddamn smirk already fixed in place. (As they would later discover, Bellamy was all about the first impression — and maybe he was onto something. They did call him Hot New Guy, after all.) “Hey. I see you’ve met my sister.”

Clarke’s gaze slid over to him, and her eyes narrowed. “You.”

His insouciant smirk widened. “Princess.”

She huffed. “Asshole.”

“Oh come on, you can do better than that.”

“I would if you were worth the effort.”

“Ouch.” His smirk never dropped. Then his gaze dropped as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “O, Mom just texted. Time to go.”

His sister frowned, disappointed. “Will I see you guys around sometime?”

Bellamy sighed and thrust his phone at Clarke.

She started, looking at him suspiciously. “What?”

“The things I do for my sister,” he lamented to no one in particular. “Number. O doesn’t have a phone, but she already steals mine all the time; this way, she has someone to bother who might actually reply.”

“There are better ways to get a girl’s number,” Clarke pointed out, already adding herself as a contact.

“I’m well aware” was the reply, accompanied — of course — by a smirk. He took the phone back and snorted. _Hot girl from the pool_ , read the contact name. “I like ‘princess’ better.”

“Of course you do.”

* * *

 

The second time they met, they got on slightly better.

It was a week later, at the only mall in Arcadia — Octavia was trying out some new style or other, and Bellamy, the dork, was always up for browsing Barnes & Noble. Which was where he ran into Clarke, who was frowning at the display of SAT prep books.

“Cramming for standardized tests already, princess?”

She barely started, turning to half-glare at him. “My mom,” she said, like this was an explanation. But he nodded like it was, anyway. “What are you up to?”

Slightly sheepish, he shifted the books he was carrying so she could see the titles: _Augustus. Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes._ _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire._

She smirked, amused. “You nerd.”

“Could say the same to you.” Amiably he jerked his chin at the volume tucked under her arm.

She pulled it out, half-smiling. _Inkheart._ “Touché.”

“So where’s the rest of the royal court today?”

Returning her gaze to the workbooks, Clarke frowned. “Probably all over the place. Jasper likes sports stuff — so Big Five Sporting Goods or Sports Authority, or maybe Nike — and he probably took Monty with him. Raven and Wick probably seized the first opportunity to take the minivan and drive to Home Depot to get some supplies for whatever project they’re working on now. And Wells is somewhere around here.”

“Quite a diverse court you’ve got.”

“Mm.” She glanced up briefly, just long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. “You and Octavia’d fit right in, if you wanted to.”

“Would we?”

Her gaze snapped up again at the unexpected vulnerability in his tone. (He could deny it all he liked — and might, if he was anything like Wells or Wick or Jasper — but Clarke knew boys and she knew human nature; she knew vulnerability when she heard it.) “Of course,” she said without a second’s hesitation. “We’re all mad here.”

He grinned. “ _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland._ ”

“Yeah. See, we’re doing it already. Give it just a few days, and the others will be sick to death of listening to us.”

Was that a flirty glint in her eye, or was it just wishful thinking on his part?

This was, of course, the exact moment Octavia came tearing into the store. “Bell! Did you know they’re —" She caught sight of Clarke and stopped short, eyes flicking warily between the two of them. Finally satisfied she hadn’t just caught them about to murder each other, she nodded. “I’ll just leave you to it, then. Clarke, Monty says Raven and Wick took the car but they promised to be back by five.”

“Great, thanks.”

“So what are you guys up to in here?”

“Nothing much.” Bellamy silently gave thanks that there was not a trace of innuendo or even teasing in his thirteen-year-old sister’s voice. Whether or not she knew about the birds and the bees and the caterpillars and moths — and if she did, whatever she did know most certainly had not come from him — she was at least still of an age where she definitely either actually didn’t or just didn’t want to think of those things as they related to her brother.

“Nerdy stuff,” Clarke offered, prompting Octavia to wrinkle her nose, shoot Bellamy a _seriously?_ look, and swiftly turn on her  heel and walk away.

Looking bemusedly amused, Clarke turned to Bellamy. “What was that?” she asked, trying not to laugh out loud. She remembered being Octavia’s age, and she knew she certainly wouldn’t have appreciated hearing laughter burst out right after she left.

“She thinks the nerdiness is contagious. Which is ridiculous, of course. She’s lived with me for thirteen years now; if it was going to rub off on her it would have done so already. But anyway, she wants to be a _sophisticated_ teenager instead of a dork like her big brother, so…”

Clarke nodded in understanding. “We all grow up differently.”

“Clearly.”

Just then, Clarke’s phone buzzed in her purse and she pulled it out. (Boys never would understand the struggle, she lamented, of having to choose between being confident that you looked nice, and having _pockets._ ) “Raven and Wick are back early, and they want to know if there’s anywhere we want to go.”

“We?”

“I meant it, you know.” She looked him in the eye, gaze steady and reassuring. “When I said you guys could join us. What’s two more weirdos, right?”

“No ulterior motives?” he asked, only half-teasing.

“Well, there is the fact that you’re the first new blood we’ve had at Ark High in a while and you’re pretty hot. I’m sure you could have your pick of cliques once school starts, but _something_ should come out of us getting to you first.”

“So you’re trying to lock me down before I realize there are way cooler people to hang out with?”

She crossed her arms, trying to glare seriously at him. “We basically have your sister.”

“Cards on the table so soon?” He held her gaze, equally intense.

A snort escaped her throat, and he cracked up too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly they don't call junior year hell year for nothing; even as I type this, I'm all too aware of the pile of homework I neglected to finally bang out this chapter, months later than I wanted to have it done. Anyway - spot the Maximum Ride and Mortal Instruments reference(s) ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Against the Current. I'm on Tumblr [here](http://bellamythology.tumblr.com); fic aesthetic is [here](http://bellamythology.tumblr.com/tagged/ff%3A-we-got-lost-in-the-summer-heat); accompanying playlist is in progress.


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